


Als ob du kein Wässerchen trüben könntest

by duraznero



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts Professors, Inappropriate Use of Legilimency, Inspired By Tumblr, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Hand Jobs, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 06:43:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17279027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duraznero/pseuds/duraznero
Summary: Albus always managed to maintain his composure, no matter what was happening. Gellert... not so much. He had other talents, but this wasn't one of them.





	Als ob du kein Wässerchen trüben könntest

**Author's Note:**

> This is very much inspired both by this post: http://judgmentalfishnun.tumblr.com/post/181620051277/on-this-fine-morning-im-thinking-about-gellert, and a certain scene in Breaking Bad where Skyler and Walter attend a school board meeting.
> 
> Thank you to my beta @isabellaofparma, who proof-read this at a quarter to 2 AM. You're a real one, Ivett. <3
> 
>  
> 
> You're all very welcome.

_1922_

 

Albus let out a deep sigh before he took a sip of his tea. He had his eyes closed while Gellert was looking at him with amusement. 

“Tired?”

Albus’ lips twitched. “Considering we are the only ones still in this room, I’m free to say that I will never quite get the hang of not disliking school board meetings.” He opened his blue eyes to meet Gellert’s. “Please don’t mention it to anyone, I don’t want to earn more disdain by several governors than I already have by the virtue of not having a boast-worthy family name.”

Gellert scoffed. “Tedious bastards, all of them. I always had a dislike for rich people, and they remind me all too much of those entitled brats I locked horns with all too often at Durmstrang.”

“Oh, so the reason you accepted the teaching post here was because you didn’t want to cross paths with any former school rivals who went around flaunting their wealth?” Albus’ eyes twinkled as he asked the question and put his tea cup up to his lips.

“The primary one, yes. The secondary might have been that an,” Gellert made a vague hand gesture, “old friend had some very convincing points about why I should apply for a job here and not in Castelobruxo. In Brazil it’s 25 degrees by this time of the year and I would’ve loved to go out in the period from January to December and not have to worry about rain.”

“There are droughts and wet seasons in tropical climate, just so you know.”

Gellert sighed and downed the rest of his coffee in one sip. “You are such a nitpicker. Stop competing with me.”

“What has Castelobruxo to offer that Hogwarts doesn’t?” Albus put down his tea cup and turned towards Gellert, inching closer to him than some might have thought it to be appropriate.

“They drink soursop juice during breakfast, which tastes so much better than pumpkin juice. Getting rid of a disgruntled Caipora is a lot easier than dealing with a vengeful Peeves.” He shrugged. “And then there’s you. I haven’t yet decided if that’s a good or a bad thing.”

“You’re a cruel man, Professor Grindelwald.” Albus chuckled and reached out for Gellert’s hand on which he was still leaning onto the table.

“I heard so from some students, particularly those who don’t get good grades in Divination.”

He laughed when Albus’ face scrunched up, it was as if he was unable to contain his distaste for his subject. He knew it wasn’t a personal offence for him though; Albus would always say that Gellert was a great teacher because he was a true Seer, but also that divination had a lot to do with natural disposition towards it. If you lacked it, no amount of superficial training in reading tea leaves or people’s palms would make you better.  
Even though Gellert suspected that his dislike simply came from him not having good experiences during his school years, he didn’t touch further upon it and the debate around Divination simply remained something they agreed to disagree on.

Albus’ thumb caressed his hand and Gellert felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He both hated and loved how just a single touch of those soft hands could make his heart skip a beat.

“Are you Seeing anything?” Albus asked, his voice dipped in false innocence. 

“You know it doesn’t work like that. I’m not an Augurey whom you ask whether it’s gonna rain today or not.” Gellert said hastily when Albus’ fingers gently traced his knuckles.  
His gift might have something to do with it, but even as a child he always had great intuition. So he pulled back his hand from under Albus’, just two seconds before the door to the teacher’s lounge opened and a grey-haired witch with brown skin stuck her head into the room.

“Albus, Gellert, everyone but you is already in their seats. Do you want twelve angry governors calling for both your resignations and heads?”

Albus said: “We’re already there, Galatea.” and both followed Professor Merrythought into the room next door where various witches and wizards were seated on a circle-shaped table.  
They were a little more than halfway through the annual meeting of the Hogwarts staff, including the caretaker Carpe and the groundskeeper, and the school governors where the latter reported to the former about potential improvements that could be done for the curriculum and complaints originating from parents and governors alike, among other things.  
He has been teaching at Hogwarts for six years now - it was going to be seven in September - and the board meetings became more dull and exhausting at the same time with every year. The topics were always more or less the same and with each year the governors who were unable to convince the staff of their ideas (and in some cases ideology),  
grew more and more frustrated. 

 

“Professors Dumbledore and Grindelwald, thank you for belatedly joining us.” The headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black greeted them, a sharp tone in his voice as if they were disobedient children he could scold however it pleased him. “Now that you are back, we can continue where we were before the break.”

“Of course, Headmaster Black, apologies from both of us.” Gellert replied smoothly and took his seat, the young Potions Master Horace Slughorn to his right and Albus himself to his left. The latter leaned over to his left and whispered something into Galatea’s ear who unsuccessfully tried to hide a grin and then crossed his legs while Dippet gave the word to the current leader of the Governor board, Irma Crabbe Black, a stern-looking woman with wavy honey-colored hair, perpetually squinting blue eyes that made Gellert want to recommend her to start wearing glasses and deep lines on her forehead from wrinkling it so often during meetings and probably in her daily life too.

“As I was saying earlier,” she began, her high voice as soothing to Gellert’s ears as fingernails on a chalkboard, and instead of focusing what she was saying, he concentrated on how she was saying it. Funny how it was this exact way of speaking that indicated status in Britain among the upper class, when it was so grotesque-sounding, as if the speakers had a small animal in their mouth that would escape them if they were to open their jaws too much. 

“While I do see your point, Mrs. Crabbe Black, I have to fundamentally disagree.” Gellert didn’t even register how far into the discussion they were when Albus interjected and conjured a counter-argument to which even some of the governors nodded reluctantly in agreement.

When he turned to Albus to give him an approving smile, he was met with a raised eyebrow and if he wasn’t mistaken, also a slight frown. What had he done wrong? Should he ought to pay attention?

The role of speaker went from Mrs. Crabbe Black to Eugenio Fawcett, a big man with a voice fittingly deep and thus pleasant and easier to listen to.

He was following his discourse quite well - it was about the curriculum for Arithmancy on NEWT levels, and he wondered just exactly what he had missed in the previous discussion - when he felt a soft nudge to his left foot.  
Albus was looking intently at Fawcett and Gellert almost assumed it had been by accident, but then Albus nudged him again, this time a little stronger, as he removed his hand from the table and put it on his thigh.

_Oh. I see what you’re trying to go for, dearest._

They haven’t done that in a long time. The last time it was at a conference in Vancouver, on the fourth year of their travels around the world, just after they had come back from visiting Albus’ siblings, and a discussion held under a more than promising name had turned out to be so utterly tiring that Gellert had started to gently stroke Albus’ thigh and when there had been no protest, moved onto something a little more riskier. He was still amazed at Albus’ complete self-control, being able to look completely calm and not move a single muscle in his face as he came all over Gellert’s hand.

Gellert suppressed a grin at the memory of it and the ensuing aftermath when Albus and he had Apparated into their hotel room the moment they left the conference room and had practically ripped their clothes off each other’s bodies, and tapped the table with his fingers. A subtle movement perceived by most outsiders as boredom as if to say ‘This is so boring, I have to try to keep myself conscious by moving a little.’, but Albus registered it right away. His hand moved from his own thigh to Gellert’s knee and Gellert inhaled a little deeper than usual when the sensation of long fingers caressing him made his skin crawl pleasantly.  
The hand stayed there for a few moments and then slowly, almost painfully so, inched up his thigh while the fingertips still continued with the swirling movements on his skin.

_Albus, always with the dirty tricks. You really know what I like best._

He tensed up but tried to hide it by straightening his back and slightly moving his head as if the muscles in his neck needed to be stretched. Under no circumstance could he blow their cover here, and as always Albus’ touch, no matter how little it might seem, brought him on the edge of coming undone.  
The hand was halfway on his thigh when Albus stopped to answer to Geraldine Bulstrode’s question whether to take NEWT-level classes in Transfiguration still required at least an ‘Exceeds Expectations’ or not, reassuring her that he was thinking of allowing even ‘Acceptable’ students to continue if they showed enough enthusiasm, all while gently gripping Gellert’s thigh as if to reassure him too of something: _I haven’t forgotten about you._

Ms Bulstrode nodded just as Maximus Avery let out a scoff and went on to talk about how his youngest daughter was in dire need of tutoring, and Albus’s hand continued its way up Gellert’s thigh, his slender fingers burning him even through the fabric of his trousers, and ecstatic excitement surged through him when Albus’s hand settled where his thighs met.  
His heart caught up in speed when Albus undid the first of four buttons on his trousers, and he had to keep his eyelashes from flattering. Taking a deep breath, he looked around into the faces of the governors opposite of him. He knew he wasn’t the only one, especially among the staff, who believed these functions to be terribly dull, but he was still surprised to see Edmund Malbindi quietly chatting with Philomena Malfoy as if they were having a coffee and not discussing the future of the school their children went to.

He caught the gasp that almost escaped him in his throat just in time when Albus, having gotten over the obstacle that were his buttons, ran over the full length of his cock through his pants with his index finger. Gellert had never been one to be religious or believe in any kind of higher power, but the sensation of Albus feeling him up felt like a piece of heaven personally delivered to him.

Albus slowly pulled down the band of his undergarments to take out his dick and Gellert felt heat rise up in his face as he realized just how _risky_ this actually was. If Horace was to look a little more to the left and down, he would undoubtedly see his respected colleague getting jerked off by another respected colleague.  
Their intimate relationship wasn’t public knowledge to all staff members, the only one who knew might be Galatea who at some point during last year’s New Years’ Eve party hosted by Horace on his residence and probably with the encouragement of the mead she had drunk, had simply asked them if “they were shagging or not”, and Albus’ undignified facial expression coupled with Gellert’s loud barking laugh had been answer enough for her apparently, but after that, she never mentioned it again - perhaps for the better. It wasn’t that they thought any staff member would have minded - these were their friends after all - but if it became knowledge to the students who then told their parents who then told the governors… who knew what would happen. 

A fine job the damned Muggles have done. As if them holding their prejudices towards members of their own kind wasn’t enough, it had influenced even Wizarding culture. His next thought about the influence bigotry in Western Muggle society had upon others dissolved into thin smoke when Albus wrapped his fingers around his dick and started slowly stroking him, from the base to the tip over which he gently ran a thumb over. 

The blood was pounding in his ears and he felt his head going light with pleasure and bliss as Albus began to jerk him off, and he came dangerously close to forgetting that they were in public when he moved his hips against the hand stroking him by instinct, his seat budged a bit and scraped over the floor. Luckily for him, just as it did, someone raised their voice and thus overshadowed all other noise, and he tried to recompose himself. But it wasn’t easy with his lover’s hand on his cock distracting him, and when Albus started talking about the advantages of continue to give the students the opportunity to take Muggle Studies, he wondered just how Albus was able to keep his composure.

_Nur du kannst so aussehen, als ob du kein Wässerchen trüben tust während du mir fast vor aller Augen einen runterholst. Was für ein Glücksgriff du doch bist._

“Professor Grindelwald.” The high voice of Irma Crabbe Black calling him out forced him to summon all of his energies onto actually listening to what she was about to tell him in addition to putting on a calm face. Easier said than done.

“I was wondering if you are choosing to change the curriculum for Divination this year - I’ve heard complaints from some parents that certain of your… methods are overly specific and thus make it impossible for the students to get ‘Outstandings’. May I remind you that we do things at Hogwarts differently than at Durmstrang? How many O’s have you given last year?”

The hand around Gellert’s erection had stopped stroking but not moving. Albus’s fingertips caressed him and to call it distracting was a vast understatement.  
Gellert cleared his throat and noticed out of the corner of his eyes how Albus was looking at him, head slightly tilted and hanging onto what he had to say. 

“Thank you for reminding me that we aren't at Durmstrang, Mrs Crabbe Black, the temperatures were telling me otherwise." His tone was light and jovial and some people tried to suppress a laugh and failed. "It is true,” he continued, tearing his gaze from Albus and towards Irma, who squinted her eyes and wrinkled her nose as he did, “I give O’s only to those students who show both the interest and dedication in the art of Divination, and I understand that some people believe it to be a useless subject when one doesn’t have a natural disposition for Divination.”

At that, Albus emitted a low chuckle and gave Gellert’s dick a gentle tug. A gasp escaped him and Irma Crabbe Black raised an eyebrow at the sudden noise.

“I didn't want to imply,” He hurried himself to say, “that those who don’t have natural abilities are unable to succeed in my subject. Because such is not the case and those who are deserving of an ‘O’ usually receive it. As for my methods, I have to be honest with you and say that I will not change them just because certain children of certain parents don’t show the sufficient motivation. I would like to point out that, after all, Divination is an elective and those who don’t show interest in it might do well at Ancient Runes or Arithmancy.” An easy smile came to his lips when Irma Crabbe Black’s jaw fell open. His eyes went to Albus, who himself wore a satisfied smirk and a twinkle in his eyes.

“I agree with what Professor Grindelwald has to say; we shouldn’t lower the bar for our students just for the sake of them looking better on their exams at the cost of them not gaining more knowledge.” 

“Headmaster Black.” Mrs. Crabbe Black’s words were as sweet as honey when she spoke to Phineas. “Do you agree with the Professors Grindelwald and Dumbledore?”

Whatever was said next was secondary to Albus continuing where he left off, his hand running up and down his hard cock’s full length, every now and then fondling his balls and stroking the tip, and Gellert tensed when he felt fire pool in his abdomen, and there was nothing he wanted to do more than outwardly showing Albus just how well he was pleasing him. But since he was cursed to force himself to remain silent and unresponsive, he left it at a quick glance and their eyes met, he let down his Occlumency shields to share his feelings with Albus.

Albus’ eyes widened so slightly that no one but him could have noticed when he felt Gellert’s burning lust as he was looking through his mind. His lips parted slightly, and suddenly an image came to Gellert’s mind but it wasn’t him who had thought of it. Instead of Albus’ hand, it was his mouth around Gellert’s cock and Albus was on his knees underneath the table, bobbing his head up and down while his eyes never left Gellert’s face, twirling his tongue around the tip of his dick and stroking his thighs all the while.

The mental images lasted only for a few moments but they had the intended effects: the air around Gellert felt as if it was crackling, and he gripped the edge of the table because it was the only thing preventing him from letting out a loud groan.  
Albus seemed to sense his trouble of keeping it together, so close to the edge, and reached into his pocket to draw out his wand all the while not stopping, instead picking up the pace while Gellert felt himself becoming undone around the edges.  
The slight sensation of a charm being cast on them rolled over him, just in time as Gellert moaned, arched his back and into Albus’ hand as he shot cum all over it.

Albus leaned over to him. “I cast a Confundus charm; they can’t see any of this.”, he whispered, cupped his face and gave him a passionate kiss. Gellert, still feeling as he was floating, leaned into him to drink in his mouth as if he was dying of thirst. It was a sloppy affair how he clung onto Albus' lips and he let out a needy whine when the kiss was broken after too little time.

A quick wave of the wand and Gellert’s cum staining his trousers, Albus’ hand and even the floor underneath him vanished into thin air, and he sighed before he went on to button himself up again.  
Once he was done, Albus removed the spell - not before gently caressing Gellert’s thigh one last time - and it was as if the small bubble in which they were both encased popped and they were accessible to the rest of the world again.

 

The discussion was still going on, Irma Crabbe Black had moved onto loudly arguing with Galatea while Horace let out a deep sigh next to him and leaned over slightly. 

“These board meetings really never change?” he murmured, “It’s always either dreadfully boring or turns into a minor battlefield.”

Gellert coughed and threw a quick glance at Albus, who had both of his hands folded in front of him on the table and as if he had sensed it, turned his head slightly to look at Gellert and winked at him.

“Yes, ‘dreadfully boring’ sounds around right.” Gellert replied with a grin, leaned back into his chair and began to think of how to repay Albus for his little favor this night.

**Author's Note:**

> The thought Gellert has in German can be translated into: "Only you could look as if butter wouldn't melt in your mouth while you're jerking me off. I'm so lucky to have you."
> 
> Romance is alive and well, friends.


End file.
